


Slipping Under

by Sulwen



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPS
Genre: M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-03
Updated: 2010-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulwen/pseuds/Sulwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam's pretty vanilla.  Tommy's pretty kinky.  It shouldn't work.  Somehow, it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipping Under

Adam's definition of vanilla is a lot broader than most people's, and he realizes that. He still uses the word, because honestly, he's not _that_ kinky, and middle America thinks gay sex is freaky enough already, thank you very much. But something about being around Tommy...that boy just brings out the kink in him like no one else. The simplest things, like a little tug on Tommy's hair onstage, keep turning into extremely interesting and creative situations behind closed doors. And as illicitly thrilling as it's been, Adam would much rather be prepared than surprised.

One night, in his back bedroom on the bus, he just asks.

"So, do you have any other crazy kinks I should know about, you freak?"

Tommy glances up at him from where he's laying on his stomach, playing something on his phone. His eyes are wide and dark, and he's clearly startled by the question. "Um...I dunno...why?" he asks.

Adam gives him a sardonic look. "Oh please. Really? You think we should just keep randomly stumbling over them?"

"It's not my fault! You're the one who keeps running with every idea that gets put in your head!"

"Only because you look so pretty when I do," Adam replies with a grin. He watches a flush of pink creep over Tommy's pale skin, and god, he loves that about Tommy – they've done some absolutely wild things together, and yet the guy still blushes at a simple compliment. It's adorable, is what it is. But Tommy hasn't given an answer, not even close, and that makes Adam all the more certain that there are things Tommy's keeping from him, fantasies as yet unfulfilled.

Tommy's buried himself back in his game, and Adam just waits, watching, knowing that Tommy won't be able to resist long.

He's right. Not five minutes go by before Tommy tosses his phone down on the pillows with a heavy sigh and turns to Adam, eyebrows raised, and he speaks with a mix of affection and annoyance in his voice. "Adam. _What?"_

Adam pitches his voice low and serious, and gives Tommy the bedroom eyes, the ones that show he means business. "You know that whatever it is will be way better if you give me some heads-up, right? I mean, think about how it's been already...and that's me on the fly, improvising. Imagine how much better it could be if you tell me," he says.

Tommy bites his lip. "Why do you think I have some big secret?"

"Because you do. I can tell." And he really can. It might just have been a guess at the beginning of the conversation, but Adam's sure now. There's definitely something. But Tommy's face just shuts down, gets that stonewall look that Adam recognizes from a thousand fan pictures, and that's not good at all.

Adam scoots a bit closer and puts a hand on Tommy's back, rubbing slowly back and forth. "It's ok, baby," he says. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But...if I guess it, will you tell me if I'm right?"

Tommy's eyes drift closed the moment he feels Adam's hand on his back, and now he lets his head sink to the pillows, resting on his arms, and gives Adam a very slight nod.

Adam lays his head down next to Tommy's and keeps rubbing. "Hmm...well, I already know _some_ things you like. Out of the stuff we've never done...let's see. You could like...role playing? Wanna be the sexy cheerleader and I'll be the captain of the football team?"

Tommy laughs. "No! And you don't know one single thing about football."

Adam pouts. "No, but I'm a good actor. I could pretend!" Tommy just grins and shakes his head, and Adam goes back to thinking. "Nah, I think you would have told me that one, anyway. What else is there...oh! Is it fisting? I knew a guy who was into that once."

Tommy scrunches up his face. "Never really thought about that one before. What was it like?" he asks.

"Time-consuming. Not worth it, in my opinion...but hey, to each their own, right? So not that...is it something really out there, like, I dunno, cutting or knives or something?" Adam asks, wracking his brain. He really _isn't_ that kinky, and he wishes he had a list or something to go off of. Even his porn is usually pretty standard.

Sighing, Tommy buries his head in the pillow, and his words are muffled when they come. "Dammit, no, and you'll never guess."

"So just tell me, baby."

Tommy lets out a pained groan and shakes his head vehemently, and Adam narrows his eyes. He's smart, and he's been around – he should totally be able to do this. He stops trying to be logical about it and just starts rattling off a list of everything he can think of.

He almost misses it when Tommy's eyes shoot up to his face, his gaze pointed, meaningful, and he stops, having to think a second to backtrack his words. "Double penetration? _Really?"_ Adam asks, incredulous.

Tommy shakes his head. "No...before that."

"Waterspo—oh. _Oh."_ Adam can feel the look of surprise coming over his face before he can stop it, and Tommy sees it and his eyes crash closed and he hides in the pillow again, and Adam could just kick himself. Damn it.

He cuddles right up against Tommy, fitting their bodies together, and hugs him as close as he can. "Tommy, it's ok. Really. I admit, you might have to explain it to me a little bit, but I'm not gonna, like, think less of you or anything. It's a little weird...but I like your weird. I'm good with weird. Ok?"

Tommy doesn't answer, just goes really tense and still, and Adam lets him, doesn't push the issue. Instead, he thinks. It actually totally makes sense, now that he knows. A thousand images of Tommy with a cup in his hand spring to mind, and ok, yeah, maybe he should have guessed it a little easier. He really doesn't understand it, though, and he wishes Tommy was more comfortable talking about it, because he's a curious person, and now he wants to know.

He waits as long as he can before his curiosity wins out. "So...do you want to, like...do it _on_ me?" he asks, tentative, working hard to keep his voice as neutral as possible.

Tommy doesn't answer for a long time. Then, finally, so soft he can barely hear it, Tommy says, "No."

"Ok. What then?"

Tommy heaves a big sigh and flips over, throwing Adam's arm off him and landing on his back, one arm covering his face. His mouth is turned down in a little frown, and for a second, Adam regrets ever bringing this up – he hates causing Tommy pain. But it's too late now.

"I just...I dunno...like to wait. Feels good. And then sometimes...in my clothes...and god fucking damn it, Adam, I really really don't want to talk about this anymore. Ok? _Please?"_ Tommy asks, yanking the pillow out from under his head and smushing it down over his face.

"Ok, baby," Adam says, and changes the subject.

*

He waits until a day with both a show and a hotel night. They're at sound check, messing around on stage like they always do, and it's pretty hot, which helps. Adam goes off stage while the band is working out some issue with the interlude, and comes back with two bottles of water. He opens one and starts drinking it, and hands the other to Tommy, who thanks him with a little smile and does the same.

They all go out to dinner, some local sports bar that Adam doesn't catch the name of, and he keeps an eye on Tommy's beer as they eat. When it starts to get low, he slides his own mostly-full bottle across the table, saying, "Here. Have mine."

Tommy gives him a bit of a strange look, but he takes the drink and sips at it. The others laugh and make jokes and remind him that they _do_ still have a show to do, probably shouldn't get the bassist _too_ hammered beforehand. Adam just goes back to eating, glancing up at Tommy now and then, watching the way his bottom lip curls around the bottle, the miniscule movements of his throat as he drinks.

He keeps an eye on Tommy as they get dressed, glad that they've gotten into the habit of sharing a dressing room. Tommy makes only one move toward the tiny bathroom, just before he goes to change into his stage clothes. Adam clears his throat and pins him with a look, lips smirking and one eyebrow raised, and Tommy stops in his tracks. He starts to say something, but Adam doesn't let him, goes into a long rambling monologue about some fan he'd met at a meet and greet earlier and doesn't let Tommy get a word in edgewise. Talking is only going to make this awkward, and Adam likes how it's going so far.

On stage, Tommy's as focused as always, concentrating on the music and the blocking and playing off Adam. Adam loves the power this situation gives him, loves that he can do whatever he likes up here and the others pretty much have to follow along. Tonight, when he goes to introduce Tommy, he picks up Tommy's blue plastic cup and hands it to him, grinning and saying something about the importance of hydration. Tommy rolls his eyes, and the crowd laughs and cheers, and he takes a begrudging sip. Adam beams and shakes his head and talks into the microphone, and soon enough the whole crowd is chanting _chug, chug, chug!_ And Tommy glares daggers at him and shifts uncomfortably behind his bass, but he does it, tips the cup up and takes the rest of it in one long drink, heat burning behind his eyes.

They get to the hotel all in a group, and Tommy moves to the very back of the elevator, standing next to Adam, the others chattering in front of them and facing the door. Adam smiles to himself as he watches Tommy out of the corner of his eye. He's gritting his teeth, bouncing from foot to foot as subtly as he can, and his hands clench into fists and relax and clench again. Adam almost feels bad for him, but in all honesty, Tommy's had plenty of chances to get out of this – the acoustic break during the show comes to mind. The fact that he hasn't...well. Adam can't feel _too_ bad.

They part from the rest of the group and make their way to Adam's room, and Tommy darts inside as soon as Adam gets the door unlocked, making a beeline for the bathroom. But Adam catches him by the arm and pulls him back, slamming the door and shoving Tommy right up against it, crowding him with his body. Tommy's not even trying to hide it now, squirming under him, one hand going to his groin and squeezing, as if he can physically hold it in.

His eyes dart from place to place, close, open, almost panicky, and his voice is desperate when he speaks. "Please, Adam, I can't, I can't hold it anymore, just let me, _please."_

Adam runs a hand over Tommy's hair, making quiet, comforting sounds, shushing him as if he were a frightened animal. "Yes you can, baby, shh, be still now, you can do it," he murmurs, and Tommy tries to obey, stops fighting against Adam and goes as still as he can, just tiny movements in hips and hands remaining. Adam feels a shock of lust go through him, thrilling, distracting. His kink or not, Adam gets off on Tommy, Tommy all tiny and pretty under him, Tommy bending to his will, Tommy getting all flushed and hard because of _his_ actions.

He leans in, taking Tommy's lips in a deep kiss, tugging his hair back so that Tommy bares his neck, then moving down to lick and suck and bite on the sensitive exposed skin. Tommy moans and melts under his touch, and Adam grins into him. Perfect, this is perfect – Tommy distracted, lust-hazed, following Adam's every prompt, instinctively responding to even the smallest touch. Adam gets a hand under Tommy's shirt, runs it down over his stomach to the waist of his jeans. They're a little loose, as always – Tommy can never find jeans to fit him right, and one of these days Adam's gonna get some specially made for him, tight and form-fitting so that he can really show off those skinny legs and that adorable little ass – and his hand slips right in, resting just inside.

Adam pushes into Tommy gently, and god, he can _feel_ the pressure there, the fullness. Tommy gasps and goes tense and says, "Fuck fuck fuck, Adam, stop, stop, I can't, _fuck,"_ and Adam backs off, just a bit, his hand still resting, warm, on Tommy's skin.

He waits just a moment, just long enough for Tommy to regain some semblance of control. Then he breaks away and takes Tommy's hand and leads him into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind them. There's no one there to try and get in, but still, it feels right. When he turns around again, Tommy is toeing off his shoes, and Adam's glad he remembered – he wouldn't even have thought of that. Then he offers a hand and helps Tommy step into the bathtub. Adam doesn't come in with him, but they're still close enough to kiss, and to touch, and Adam runs his hands up and down, long strokes over Tommy's body, getting a hand on his neck and then his cock and then his abdomen again for one last gentle caress. Tommy is going wild under his touch, begging, literally _begging_ for release. Finally, Adam relents, steps back, and says, "Ok, baby. Go ahead. Let go."

Tommy goes very very still, and Adam holds his breath and watches.

Then Tommy groans painfully and says, "Fuck, I _can't."_

Adam cocks his head. "What do you mean, you can't?"

Tommy opens his eyes and meets Adam's stare. "I mean. I. _Can't,"_ he says, running a hand over his hard cock through his jeans, showing Adam the outline of it.

"Oh!" Adam says, realization dawning. Then he grins. "Don't worry, baby. I can _definitely_ help with that."

He reaches out and grabs Tommy by the belt loops, pulling him forward, and undoes Tommy's jeans just enough to get one hand around his cock. He strokes hard, fast, whispering into Tommy's ear, and thinks about how strange this is, how different – an orgasm just something to get out of the way rather than the goal of the whole endeavor. Tommy's so worked up that it doesn't take long, and Adam wonders if he's been on edge all day long, ever since he'd realized Adam was pushing drinks at him. He grins at how quickly he takes Tommy over the edge, eyes closed and mouth frozen open and body trembling as he comes.

Then he steps back and watches Tommy's face, watches him come down, leaning back bonelessly against the tiled shower wall. It's only moments before he's moving again, shifting his weight and pressing a hand in and trying to delay the inevitable, his lips curling around what Adam can only describe as a _whimper._ Adam licks his lips and takes a deep breath and urges him on.

"Come on, baby, do it for me, let me see you, let go, let go," he says, voice low, heavy, and suddenly he's all caught up in Tommy's anticipation and want and need, breath coming quickly, heart pounding.

And Tommy groans and _does,_ and fuck, it's like he's coming again, consumed in relief and pleasure and release, and Adam watches a dark stain appear and spread on Tommy's jeans, heat and wetness and so fucking taboo. He's never in a million years thought it would be hot, but somehow it kind of _is,_ this private intimate thing, and so _wrong,_ something you just don't do, drilled into your head since before you can remember, and he can't tear his eyes away.

He waits until Tommy opens his eyes again, looking hazy, dizzy, like he doesn't know quite where he is. Adam doesn't wait for him to come back to himself, doesn't want this to turn into shame and embarrassment and negativity. Instead, he reaches in and turns the shower on, lets the water rain down on Tommy and soak the rest of his clothes through, and god, he looks _obscene_ like that, clothes wet and clinging, hair plastered to the side of his face, the last remnants of his makeup starting to run. And Adam slips out of his boots and steps right in with him, clothes and all, and gets Tommy in his arms and kisses and kisses and kisses him, feeling the hot water seep right into his skin.

He's whispering things to Tommy again, not thinking, just letting the words come, something about _so proud_ and _beautiful_ and _amazing,_ and then he's peeling Tommy's wet clothes off of him, throwing them into a soggy pile on the floor, and Tommy's helping him with his own, and finally it's just them, skin on skin, the water making everything slick and smooth and rinsed clean. Adam pulls back a bit to look down at Tommy's face, and he looks amazing, all happy and smiley like he only gets with Adam, and then he's slowly moving down Adam's body, sinking to his knees, and yeah, that's good, _really_ good, the water pouring down in winding rivulets over Tommy's face, beading on his eyelashes, falling into his mouth as he parts his lips around Adam's cock.

Usually, Adam would take control, get a hand in Tommy's hair and thrust into him, maybe give him a direction or two. But now he just stands, bracing a hand on the wall, and lets Tommy do as he will, taking it as the silent thank you he knows it is. And oh, Tommy has gotten _good_ at this, and anyway, he's so pretty that it almost doesn't matter, blinking up at Adam through the water, lips stretched around him, the water hot but his mouth even hotter. And when he comes, he doesn't hold Tommy in place, but Tommy stays anyway, swallowing him down and licking his lips after.

Tommy stands and melts into Adam's arms, and they stand there under the running water, just holding on. Adam breathes and tries to slow his brain down, wanting to think straight, wishing he could sort out all these thoughts about trust and openness and intimacy that are flying around his head. But Tommy is looking up at him again, pliant and happy and so sweet in his arms, and Adam stops trying to think and kisses him again instead, and that's better anyway, the water flowing freely over their faces and between their lips, the sound of it blocking out the rest of the world.


End file.
